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Page 242
Alinor was perfectly normal. Nor was he reluctant to perform his marital duty; in fact, he thought wryly, watching his none-too-sober friends bear down on him, there was his trouble. He was a bit too eager. Again, in a general way, that would not have matteredbut this first time Fool, he told himself, think of something else. You will be finished before they get your clothes off if you do not.
The immediate problem was solved by Ian's drunken escort. Ian had dispensed with his splint that morning, feeling that it would be an unwelcome adjunct to a wedding bed. His friends, however, were in no fit state to help him up the stairs properly, and the pangs in his knee served, temporarily, to cool his passion. The calming effect did not long outlast his arrival in the upper great chamber where, for lack of space in Alinor's bedchamber, the disrobing ceremony would take place.
Alinor, gowned and bejeweled and wimpled in a gold veil so fine that her white skin gleamed through, was an exquisite creature. Alinor quite naked, except for the black mane that hung to the middle of her thighs, was enough to bulge a man's eyes and stop his breath. Then the women drew back her hair and lifted it so that all her perfections and blemishes would be clearly visible. Ian's prompt reaction brought shouts of laughter, applause, snapping fingers, and stamping feet.
The jests flew thick and fast, the ladies as quick to laugh and top one sally with another as the gentlemen. There was no fault to be found with either party. Alinor's vigorous life had prevented her pregnancies from marking her. Except that her breasts were somewhat fuller, her belly a little rounder, and a few faint blue lines of stretching were apparent, she might have been an unwed maid. This fact drew some complimentary remarks, but it was Ian's condition, naturally enough, that called forth most of the comments. It was great fun, but in spite of the roaring fire, it was not comfortable in the month of December to stand naked

 
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